


Beginning to Future

by MaK



Category: Homestuck
Genre: 30 day writing challenge, F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-12-11
Updated: 2013-01-11
Packaged: 2017-11-20 20:35:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 13
Words: 6,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/589386
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MaK/pseuds/MaK
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking on a thirty day writing challenge from tumblr. The themes will be listed in the chapter titles.</p>
<p>It's all Rosemary.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beginning

Rose looks at her with a smile displaying pure happiness, teeth pinched against her lip despite the booze still soaring through her stumbling body. White teeth flash as soon as she gives up her nervousness, seeing Kanaya’s own, small smile as she returns her affections; Rose begins to laugh with all honesty. A smile, pure and truthful, alone was hard to elicit from a girl who loved light but bathed in darkness and the morbid. Laughter? It was a gift from the millions of gods watching over them, watching over two girls of different races bonding over a quick kiss and a fall down the stairs.

Even with something close to euphoria surrounding her mind, Kanaya asked, “Are you alright, Rose?” she’d go on, if she wanted. The fall down the steps looked nothing but brutal, her head hitting each cliff along the way. But, regardless of the bruise that was probably forming under soft hair, the Seer still had a smile plastered on her face. The laughter was fading now, the situation having lost a bit of its hilariousness. 

“Mm, yes; I’m fine,” she mumbles, fingers now carelessly wrapped around the area between Kanaya’s neck and shoulder. “S-Spectacular, actually…” Rose stutters, taking in a deep breath and sighing against the wall. If it weren’t for the circumstances, perhaps Kanaya would have thought this pose was a bit risqué. But, with this drunk girl having previously confessed her feelings and taking a trip down the stairs, it isn’t all that sexual of a situation. The girl with lavender perfume brings herself back from the cold and comfort of the steel wall to look Kanaya in the eyes, though she’s shivering. The troll can see her flesh rising all around her arms and legs and reminds herself to perhaps make a more practical dress for the temperature of the meteor in the evenings. “Did you enjoy y-yourself… or...?” Again, she seems a bit nervous.

Assuming the grounds to do so are safe, Kanaya leans in and presses a soft kiss to Rose’s lips; liquor lingers and stings at the beginning of her nostrils, but not in a bad way. The perfume, in all its floral scents, seems to make up for it by being softer and less strong. “Yes, I enjoyed myself. Perhaps I was a bit…” she shrugs and looked off towards the stairs Rose had just fallen down, smiling a bit. “Perhaps I was a bit startled, at your affections. But, I can assure you, I’m not at all repulsed. If you were to take that step,” she says, her lips meeting Rose’s again for a second kiss. The liquor smells more familiar now, doesn’t sting as much. “You could even say I was happy with how this date turned out.”


	2. Accusation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A small imply of Gamzee/Terezi at the end, but nothing big.

Rose breaks a lamp when her hands fly this way and that; doesn’t care to acknowledge it nor pick it up. She’s got a scowl on her face, one showing off just how clueless she is on this situation and how she has absolutely no idea how to handle it. “I’m human,” she keeps saying. “This isn’t in our culture at all, Kanaya.” And Kanaya knows this. The idea of a polygamy relationship in human society was very much so regarded with a sense of disgust, outlawed in most areas. The whole dispute is centered on your on-and-off pale relationship with the meteor’s leader, Karkat. 

She had been fine with it. So what? Her alien matesprit (girlfriend?) was shooshing and papping someone. It didn’t particularly matter to her. Just another name and another quadrant and, overall, something not to worry about. But she had asked for an elaboration, and then it had all gone to shit. It was hard, even for Kanaya, to tell the girl how deep the relationship between moirails was. Equius and Nepeta became a prime example, as did their ancestors and dancestors, in which you used their relationship to define certain aspects. Easier ones, describing how your moirail keeps you calm in some situations and tells you to get more emotion in others, and how they comfort you in times of sorrow and dread (such as when a lusus dies or a matesprit). These ones, for Kanaya, came easily out of her tongue. 

The actual connection, though, was much more difficult to explain. As the words had flowed in stutters in poses for Kanaya, the words came like waves of hurt and anger to Rose. “So, it’s… Kanaya, that’s cheating.”

“No, it’s not. It’s a quadrant of four. The matesprit quadrant and the pale quadrant are two very different things, save for the flushed organization of them.”

Rose furrows her brows deeper when Kanaya attempt to explain the concept again. After some back and forth comments and replies and questions with answers that only seem to make her more upset. “Kanaya, by my ideals, you’re cheating on me with Karkat in an on-off thing that isn’t even… like… physical! But, it’s cheating.”

“Rose,” she says, calmly. The nature that was given from her lusus was beginning to show itself in the slowest of ways. It’s somewhat like a bother attempting to explain a color to a child. It’s so obvious it’s unheard of. “You’re making a very harsh accusation. I’m not cheating on you, by my principles. By my… I don’t know; cultural ideas.”

She’s beginning to get up and stomp her foot. It’s odd, to Kanaya, to see the girl who was reading as quiet as a jumping beast just hours ago up is up and pouting about a matter that seems so silly and childish to the alien still seated in her chair. Really, all Kanaya wants to say is that it’s not a big deal.

So, she attempts to put it in her mind as Rose sees it. “One moment, please. I’m trying to think.” Rose goes silent, and Kanaya begins to process it. Since humans have a one relationship system (which is still a bizarre concept to the remaining trolls), this system is obviously confusing to them, and maybe it’s not too out of the way for Rose to see a moirallegiance as cheating. In their concept, perhaps having such a deep bond is troublesome. “I… think I can grasp your concept, Rose. But, honestly, maybe you should attempt to grasp my own? Karkat’s moirail is on the run for reasons I haven’t pursued in quite some time and I’m his ‘closest friend’ here. He can’t really rely on Gamzee, though he tries, and… Well, I don’t know. It’s... a priority, maybe? To keep our leader healthy.”

Rose sighed, only now glancing down at the shattered remains of the lamp on the floor. In a small, very her way, she flinches at the sight. Another sigh breathes through black painted lips and she attempts to form a response. “I suppose I can get that. But, you said you can see where I’m coming from, right? So, can you see as to why I’m a bit distraught?”

“Breaking a lamp is more than a bit distraught, in my opinion,” Kanaya says. Rose pouts at the response. “And Seeing is more of your thing, isn’t it, Seer?” She smiles at that one. 

Above them, in one of the several vents, they hear Terezi’s voice. “Drop the charges!” followed shortly by a loud honk.


	3. Restless

Fingers entwine with hers in the middle of the nights, their coldness resonating a delightfully dull pain through the bridges between Rose’s fingers. Hands are together over Kanaya’s navel, which is rising slowly and falling back even slower. Rainbow drinkers, she had explained to Rose, don’t technically require breathe because they’re dead. In her case, which is more extreme, she doesn’t really need breath because her lungs were burned and torn towards the bottom after Eridan’s assault. Rose, on the other hand, has sped up her breathing just the slightest. Kanaya can tell due to heightened senses, but Rose herself is unaware. White fingers, glowing softly at night, tap against the similar paleness of Rose’s hands as black nails make a stark contrast. The human hums, tapping back against her girlfriend’s flesh in a simple pattern of nothingness; above her, Kanaya smiles and sighs. Rose feels it with the rise of her chest.

“Can you not sleep?” the human asks, eyes still closed and her body still weary. It’s not an uncommon experience. Especially, now, with the lack of sopor slime on the meteor. According to Karkat, Kanaya, and Terezi, but never commented on from Gamzee, they haven’t gotten proper sleep in an uncountable amount of days. Nightmares plague their minds relentlessly. 

“No, I can’t.” She replies, her voice calm.

Rose hums again, clasping their hands in a different way so that their palms were flushed against each other. The skin was still cold there. “You don’t sound afraid or upset in anyway. Have you had a nightmare?” Unlikely, but it was still important to ask.

“No, I haven’t slept at all since we laid down.”

“Even worse.”

Again, with the whole half-dead process, Kanaya isn’t really required to sleep. It’s completely possible for her to go sweeps without a single wink of an eye and she could easily do it without complaint. However, because of her youth, it makes the entire thing more difficult as she becomes less attached to anything at all. “I agree,” she says, seemingly distracted. Having suffered from restlessness herself, Rose can recognize that there’s actually nothing on the troll’s mind. If anything, she’s focusing on the lack of a topic to think about and to deal with and to manage and to, eventually, get rid of. It’s bothersome to everyone, as far as the Seer is aware, and it’s hard to deal with. 

“I fear you’ve caught a horrible disease of insomnia.”

Kanaya sits up abruptly from this. Her eyes are wide and now, again all so sudden that it startles her matesprit. “I have? Oh, oh shit. Rose, we can’t be sleeping so close to each other than. What if you-?”

“Shh.” Rose leans up and presses kisses to glowing cheeks, now of a much brighter lighting, and presses down on Kanaya’s stomach until she’s laying down again. Rose’s hair splays back over the spot between Kanaya’s elbow and the pillow. “It’s not really a disease, I think. Dave has it. It’s more of a disorder, love. One that plagues one from sleep. It’s all about your mind keeping you awake. But, to be honest, it was never something I investigated too deeply into.”

“Oh,” the troll kneads her lip with one of her fangs. “Well, that’s a relief. I’d hate to end these cuddling sessions for something so tragically dumb.”

“Agreed,” Rose smiles.

“Even with your short research,” Kanaya continues, “did you ever find a cure of sorts for this insomnia?” 

The girl hums another time, yawning soon after. “I don’t know if trolls can even really have insomnia. But, anyway, there isn’t a natural cure, I think. There are pills, but I didn’t take them here, and I wouldn’t know how to alchemize them without… well, probably months of experimenting, and by that point it would have gotten so boring…” She pauses. “Rambling. Hanging out with such a beautiful alien has horrible side-effects.”

“Please, Rose. I just want to sleep. No flattery – not now.” 

“Shame.”

Kanaya chuckles, this movement a faster cascade and rising of her chest that Rose feels and distinguishes happily. They become quiet again, the Seer searching for signs of breath slowing (or stopping completely; it’s been known to happen when the troll sleeps) while the Sylph attempts to do just that, attempts to shut herself down mentally. It causes more nothingness to resonate throughout her blank mind and, with a groan, she turns so that she’s on her side and facing Rose. Her nose comes to land just beyond the flow of pale hair and she rests her chin on Rose’s shoulder. There’s no intention to bite, she’s not hungry but only tired and restless. 

A set of pale hands, though they aren’t glowing, come to nestle in a spiky, styled mess of black hair. After several, soft kisses to the sensitive skin at the curve of Rose’s neck, suddenly the girl can sense the breaths coming out of Kanaya’s nose are becoming less frequent and are slower.

“Sweet dreams,” Rose smiles, kissing the skin beneath Kanaya’s ear.

The troll purrs happily.


	4. Snowflake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was written quickly because I forgot about it while writing some shit for school. Sorry.

Rose watches with a secretive amount of fondness as the snow dances around her and Kanaya. The troll, on her part, is less distracted by her girlfriend and is busy watching the snow with a cross-eyed fascination as it touches her nose and melts. “It’s cold,” she’ll whisper occasionally and mainly then does Rose recall the desert life she had served on Alternia.

“I doubt you’ve ever seen snow before,” she starts.

“One time, while pestering you, I saw it. You were building what I thought was a snow lusus at the time. It’s rather pretty. Why is it so white?”

Beside her, the Seer chuckled. “I couldn’t tell you. Snow was never something I questioned. It was thing that happened frequently and I learned to love and hate it.”

“How could you hate it?”

“It got me terribly frigid at times.”

The Sylph hums, watching as the flakes lazily float down onto her stylish gloves. Fangs breach her lips as she smiles and she moves closer to Rose, indicating for her to look at the few, still frozen snowflakes in her palm. “Rose, Rose, look it. Can you see it? They’re all different. Look at their intricate designs laced with striking barbs. Oh my god,” she mumbles, watching as they disappear. Rose’s smirk slowly becomes a more genuine smile. “It’s terrible how they melt away like that. It’s all so gorgeous and it’s rather sad that we’re stepping on each and every one of them as they fall onto the ground.” With that, both of their eyes are trained on their boots and their footsteps.

“I wouldn’t worry too deeply about it, love.” 

“Well, I never said I was worried. I think you’re exaggerating.”

“It’s one of my pastimes.” 

Again, Kanaya hums as she watches, again and again in a repeated fashion that’s beginning to become more calm and orderly, each individual snowflake land amongst the tips of her fingers and the brim of her sleeves and palm of her gloves, seeming to mourn for them each time one was to melt away, ostensibly dissolving in the fabric. “I think there are plenty of ideas here – in the snow.”

Violet eyes meet ones black, but flecked with jade, as pink lips form the words, “How so?”

“Can you imagine how many dresses and skirts and, wow. There’s so much that could be taken from all of these little stitches that brim along each and every stick of these snowflakes. It’s as if they’re begging to be noticed but more so for their creativity than for their beauty.”

“I suppose you didn’t know, but there are no two snowflakes alike. Ever. At least, from what I’ve last heard, that’s how it is. Perhaps, if Earth were to live for another million years, we would find two snowflakes that were each other’s twin. But, again, I never heard it.”

More humming; jade splattered eyes study each of the flakes as if they are some forbidden answers in there, only to be followed by more riddles. Smiling, without any real reason to, Rose begins to wonder what it must be like for Kanaya. A girl who’d only seen sand and flowers and then the gray of walls and the color of her friends’ bloods must be astounded by something so peacefully dull. Smiling still, the Seer comes up behind her matesprit and wraps arms around the troll’s waist, head pressed comfortably between Kanaya’s shoulder blades. Humming against the fabric, with the sound vibrating around the troll’s flesh, they stand there still. A rare treat, Rose is peaceful and still and calm and quiet. The noise emitting from her throat is closer to a purr than anything. For Kanaya, it’s the first time she’s been surrounded by something some sweet and fragile and secretive. The pressure of Rose’s arms and the warmth of her pressed against her back and distant scent of flowers looming overhead, she rethinks. Perhaps this isn’t the first time she’s been around something so sweet. It’s definitely not the first time she’s been near something secretive and aloof, one begging to be seen for creativity but never shouting out its talents. 

The snowflakes melt, again, into the weaving of her gloves and Kanaya turns around. The embrace is returned and the two of them stand, suddenly warm in the cold, as intricate droplets of ice fall around them.


	5. Haze

The mist is squat outside their apartment, snug to doors and windows and submerging steps in a thick maze of vapors. On the second floor, the windows are foggy and condensation rolls down the glass in a lazy manner. The sun is blocked out by gray clouds, threatening a storm but unwilling to give one. It’s mid-September and the rain has been frequent in their city; sometimes it pounds and other times it’s a soft pitter-patter against the windows and it rolls down the sides of walls and over the hoods of cars.

Rose is still laying in bed, pale hair a mess against the pillow she’s got her face planted into. The small light shining from the window and the fluorescence emitted from the television gives a makeshift halo to her head. The small, insipid girl has a hefty blanket wound around her body, ignoring the large portion that hangs off the bed. With her body controlled by the wistful powers of sleep, she’s ignorant to the cold that swirls about the room but unconsciously attempts to pull the blanket back up to her chin. With unornamented hands, Kanaya moves the comforter up to the girl’s shoulders and leaves the bedroom once more, focusing on the hunger in her stomach.

Milk drips from her chin and makes droplets in the bowl as she munches on some sort of fruity cereal – sugary and sweet, something very close to perfect. Humming, staring through a window into the dullness of the city, Kanaya begins to think. Long paragraphs reel through her thoughts, but it’s nothing to care for as it is all meaningless babble focused around plans for dresses and shirts and blouses and maybe she’s contemplating a party of sorts for their four year anniversary. There won’t be an immense get-together as there was last year and their first year accomplished with each other. Perhaps it’d something trifling and additionally personal; something with glasses of wines and cups of tea. Tiny cakes and sweets with dainty silverware and unneeded and small napkins would litter the kitchen and living room and as soon as they got sick of it they’d get rid of it – probably give them away to some strangers and their friends. 

Sighing with an empty bowl and sighing again with the clack of thick plastic against the thin metal of the sink, the troll runs long fingers through unsettled hair and stares out the window into the yellow and gray haze that it’s overlaying the city. 

Kanaya returns the room, the one smelling of lavender and wax and there’s a faint aroma of sex and it brings back memories of Rose’s rubicund face with breathy sighs leaving bitten lips. Thoughts flow away from her mind though as she lays down, shuffling below the blanket to wrap gray arms around the girl’s frail form. A groan arises from pale lips and Rose mumbles, “Quiet in the kitchen.” 

“Always, dear,” the troll drones back. A small glow, now from her, circulates more warmth and the Seer responds by cuddle close, ignoring the previous spooning position and going into one that involves Kanaya’s arms wrapped loosely around her waist while Rose’s are entwined around her neck with her legs draped near her thighs. “I love you.” 

“I love you too.” With a small shuffle, she continues, “Sleep, though. It’s dreary out and I don’t care to write.”


	6. Flame

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last minute and on my phone. Sorry.

Fire licks around the paper before starting, tobacco being lit aflame and the smell of smoke quickly filling the area around the two. Forever generous, Rose raises her eyebrows as she passes the cigarette between two fingers, smile simple and with an underlying layer of deviousness. "One never hurt a soul, dear."

"You know that's a lie, Miss Lalonde," Kanaya replies, eyeing the roll cautiously. "And while it may have never hurt a soul, it sure as hell has damaged a lung. Or two."

"Or three?"

The aliens squints at her, confused. "Do humans have three lungs? Like how your Earth cows have four stomachs?"

"Precisely. You're learning. Are you going to..?" she wiggles the stick between her fingers, smoke lazily filling out from the end. 

"I believe I'll pass. Watching your lips curve around something is intoxicating as is."

Rose blushes and her smirk grows. "Why, aren't you quite the flirt." The cigarette meets black lips again, the smoke filling out of her nose this time. "One could say I'm flustered, Kanaya."

"That's the biggest lie to leave that snake of a tongue."

"Flattered," the Seer replies. Another drag of the cigarette and more smoke filters between her lips, some drifting throw her nostrils. The two lovers stand against the brick wall, frost clinging to their coats and the cold darkening their cheeks. Music rages distantly as Rose's brother, Dave, busies himself with the entertainment industry. Meanwhile these two wait for his shift to end so they can get out, get away from the perverts that have smacked both Rose and Kanaya's ass and the extremely tempting waitress who served them drinks. Eventually, though, the ever roaring flame in the building - the constant built up but never ending rhythm - began to become sickening and the two stepped out, leading them to where they are now. 

"I'm considering that little bit of flame you've got there," Kanaya confesses. Running fingers through her hair as waiting becomes unbearable, she sighs. "Would it set my tongue afire?"

"That is completely possible."

Rose smiles and the two continue to rest against the chilly brick wall, content to watch the traffic flow by in streams of red and yellow. Two men get out of their vehicles and begin a casual fight over a fender bender not too far away - just within earshot. "I have a certain love for the night, you know," Rose starts. The troll's ears prick up, intent to listen. The Seer chuckles slightly at the action. "It has a mysterious way that, I guess, I find alluring. But, I like the day, too. I love the shining heat of light and the small embers of flame it allows you to embrace." With a finished sigh, smoke drifts off above them along with Kanaya's frosted breath. 

"I suppose I've never been too fond of the dark. But, at home, the desert sun would start my garden on fire if I were to be lazy and forget to water them or left a glass around. The day, and the light as well, have their downfalls, I suppose."

"Excellent. Now, come here."

Rose moves her finger in an elegant fashion and Kanaya moves to stand in front of her. With a single, drawn out drag on the cigarette, Rose blows a fury of smoke and embers into the troll's face. Eyes shut and black lips grow in a smirk. "There's a way where two friends, or lovers I suppose, put their mouths close together and breathes in the other's smoke."

"Never heard of it."

Rose smiles, this one more genuine, and flicks the roll onto the ground. With light steps, her toes come down to smash our the flame and leave it smeared into the cement.


	7. Formal

Kanaya, as Rose would know her, is usually dressed formally so as not to insult her skills. The troll has spent many hours, some enjoyed and others suffered, making clothes for the crew on board the meteor. Mainly, of course, Rose. Several lovely dresses and skirts and deisgns for blouses have been made for the Seer of Light's blessing and approval. Night gowns became a new sensation after Kanaya had mentioned how sick she was of seeing her girlfriend walk around dressed as a trafic cone. "It insults your figure, anyway," she hissed, glaring down at the girl's thighs. "I propose that I make something better for you to wear on a daily basis, seeing how you're completely fine with one outfit for two years. Anyway, can I make you some pajamas, Rose?"

"Why would I say no?"

So, with all these clothes crafted and seemingly perfect, along with the night gown meant to be wrinkled and slept in, Rose was fairly surprised to see the seamstress walk out of her room with a loose tang-top and sweat pants the only thing on her. Both were wrinkled and crumpled and Rose was sure if she could get close enough she would spy the stains on the legs and stomach. How could Kanaya make her a set of pajamas fit for a princess but not adorn her own figure in something fit for a queen? Or, in reality, a special cast and a low noble in troll society? "Kanaya, I must say, I'm shocked."

"Oh, please, Rose. I'm as beautiful as a gaint worm when I wake up, that is fact and I'm aware of it."

Chuckling, the girl responds, "No, not that. But you do looks beautiful, as always." Jade spreads over the troll's cheeks and Rose smiles some more. "I'm only shocked because your night apparel is so informal."

Looking down at the clothes draping her form in the laziest of ways, Kanaya shrugs. The small blush on her cheeks has passed and she busies herself with licking off lipstick that has smeared on her fangs. After awhile, she replies with a yawn. "Well, I never paid much attention about what I wear when I rest."

"It's an insult to your work, though."

The troll smiles and stretches, spine popping faintly and ankles wiggling with balance. She's still hardly awake, Rose muses, and it's rather cute how sleepy she looks. "I do believe," Kanaya starts, "that wearing some fancy clothes in a pit of slime is the exact opposite of formal."

"Point."


	8. Companion

Kanaya holds her hand through the bus ride, not even needing the reminder of her anxiety towards strangers. There's a storm the following night, not nearly as bad as the one before she entered sburb, but the rain is loud and unforgiving but it's alright because Kanaya has her arms around the pale girl, fingers touching between shoulder blades and humming quietly to help block out the thunder. Days and nights where Rose has been consumed with nightmares and horror terrors and bloody images of her and her friends, the Sylph constantly gave tight hugs and reassuring whispers. Nails would smoothen out Rose's pale hair and brush away any tears that fell. Mornings in which the Seer refused or simply couldn't get up out of paralysis via fear were mornings spent on the bed or on the couch with the TV on low and Kanaya's kisses soft and light, trailing around the girl's head and neck. Evenings when Rose can't sleep, if not saved by several and various pills, were spent watching dumb shows on their television or making up silly scenarios.

Sometimes, when Rose awoke in the middle of the nights, with Kanaya breathing slowly beside her, she would recount their best moments. Moments where they first met and Rose prided herself on not showing all that much care for her best, snarky friend's appearance. The time where Kanaya finished half the books in the library, leaving the Light player 8 novels behind her. Particularly, Rose admired the story of how Kanaya killed Eridan and punched Vriska, as well as demonstrating her prominent hate for the clown boy. The rainbow drinker, usually rambling and sometimes insensitive, did not appear, at first glance, to be such an phenomenal badass. The special image of the troll running jade and purple lipstick over her mouth was especially stunning. 

Sometimes, when no one is around to hear her, Rose will sing to the troll. Earthen songs the girl doesn't quite understand but loves the tune of. "You should have pursued a career in singing, you're quite good at it."

In return, Kanaya would repeat all the tasks above. She rarily grew tired due to the part of her that was undead, but when she did the nap was spent on Rose's lap with pillows spread around. Rose can't define their relationship in "boyfriend/girlfriend" terms, nor as a matespritship. It seems deeper, but the term fiancee is too strong and extremely restricting. 

In the most romantic of ways, Rose considers the girl her companion. A soulmate, of sorts. Someone destined to never leave her side, as she will never leave hers.


	9. Move

She shifts to rest her weight on her calves rather than on the troll. The whole charade is becoming a bit tiring, Rose thinks, this escapade of simple moving. Boredom is strong on this hell beaten rock, she imagines, now openly leaning into the plush fabric of Kanaya's shirt. They've read all the books that could pass as entertainment, have pulled numerous immature pranks on their friends, yanked every little pun out of the book and used it on one another. To the point of excruciation, the two have played so many chess games that the Sylph began to see every possible move the Seer could make in certain situations. If it weren't sworn secrecy between them, one of them would mention a colorful game of I Spy and Hide-n-Seek. 

Their previous attempts at avoiding boredom with some slow moves have never been this pathetic though. 

Kanaya is laying on the couch with her back to the seat and her necked pulled up in the least attractive way, legs bent awkwardly in an attempt to help herself stay balanced. Unhelping, Rose has her head on the girl's stomach, legs folded underneath her as she stretches and drifts. 

what the fuck kind of prompt is MOVE i can't do ANYFIN with this bullshit fuck it


	10. Dress

She slides on Kanaya's shirt, enjoying the sudden rush of sour smell the fumes from it, a scent she's beginning to enjoy. The pants to her Seer outfit, more like baggy sweat pants that cup around her ankle, are located hanging off the corner of the dresser and sagging onto the floor. Rose looks over at the snoozing troll as she pulls up her pants, smiling softly as the girl emits a soft purr into her pillow, folding up into a circle against the blanket. With a wider grin growing on her face, Rose realizes the troll wants to cuddle. To further prove her theory, Kanaya murmurs just loud enough to confirm her consciousness, "Rooooooose..."

"Yes, my dear?" she fondles her hair and has it twine around the fingers nearest her ear, smirking softly with amusement. 

"Come to my side." She mumbles, making soft motions with her hands, and pausing before adding, "Please."

"I'm getting dressed, though. I purpose you should, too."

"Hell no."

Rose laughs, freely and without care as it comes out in quiet spurts, teeth flashing the world. 

"I don't see what's so funny, Rose..."

"You."

"Come cuddle with me."

"So you're not getting dressed?"

This time, the troll hums in a negative response, making wider motions with her arms for the human to join her in the mess of sheets. And, because the Seer has a secret problem saying no to the girl in her bed, grins and crawls back onto the comforter, only snuggling in once the troll makes a distressed purr of sorts. Rose lets out a small chuckle, shifting into Kanaya's arms. For a few moments, they lay; Kanaya's arm draped around the other girl's side and Rose's arms pressed against the troll's breasts as her fingers come to rest on her colar bone. It's quiet and comfortable but then Kanaya inquiries, "How was I supposed to get dressed when you've adorned yourself with my shirt?"

"Would you not wear mine?"

"Oh, please," the troll groans, nestling her head into Rose's neck. "It's more of a cloak than anything. Besides, I'd never dress myself in such a horribly bright color."

"Your opinions are priceless."

"There was a reason I was tearing your clothes off so quickly last night," she rings. Rose can feel the smirk growing on the troll's lips as the blush in her cheeks begins to spread.


	11. Tense

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> quick and sloppy

The troll's hands are held tight, green veins just visible beneath her skin. Her fangs are kneading at her black lips worringly, small droplets of the girl's blood is beginning to spread about her lips and on her tongue. Behind her, Rose finds that she is incredibly tense once her hands find their place on Kanaya's shoulders. Under the touch, they only rise up more in a quick flinch that doesn't retreat. "Shh, shh, please, why are you so nervous? It's not as if I expected you to be some sort of fabulous human being without horns on their head." The Sylph laughs lightly and the Seer smiles at the bit of tension releasing itself from the troll's muscles. 

It's been several hours since the humans have arrived. Dave has been busy cracking jokes with Terezi and making raps with nobody but himself, while Rose has been catching up with the only alien she's ever found herself even mildly interested. All throughout their conversations, Kanaya has been drawn back and quick with her responses, attempting to keep everything at a public level and completely avoid any personal affairs. Especially, she's been taking care to avoid any comments directed at her glow or the bleeding hole in her stomach. But, now, the fleeting conversation had been thrown out the window and Rose took care of tackling the situation head on as soon as possible. 

"Well, yes... but, even if you did expect me to be an alien and all... Well, really, you knew I was. Nor I or my comrades attempted to hide that. But, anyway, I would have had preferred you, err..." She sighs, curling away from Rose's touch and into a ball. "Popped up at a better time..."

"You know," she starts, "I could care less about your body, Kanaya. You're a splendid person alone. But, anyway, because being a master designer and being the adorable rambler you are - " Rose smirks as Kanaya's cheeks darken with the compliment " - I believe you're enticingly beautiful."

The troll sighs, tension dropping as she seems to give up on defending her nervousness at the moment. "I, uh, thank you, Rose... but I've got a hole in my stomach the size of one of your human softballs."

The girl hums, thumbs tracing in the edges of the girl's shoulder blades. "It didn't knock out your heart, so I don't mind."

"Rose!"

The Seer laughs, a deep chuckle that bounces her shoulders and has her teeth flashing. "Please, Kanaya. My affection for you transcends your own physical being."

And, finally, the alien slumps against the human and Rose is happy to find that the tension that was once spread all throughout the Sylph's body has almost completely disappeared. Muscles relaxed and her breaths more of soft sighs than anything, Kanaya rests. "In which case, I apologize for my own self loathing."

"I am only happy to see you relaxed."


	12. Class

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I got lazy.

The girl beside her has her feet and pencil tapping and the rhythm has Kanaya lost between the hypnotic bounces and the drowning words pouring from Mr. Scratch's - or Dr. Scratch, as he prefers - mouth and the entire session has gone by in a blur, finally ruined when the bell shatters. She jumps and the girl with her pencil, Rose, grins and giggles in a tight way - amused but unwilling to show it. There's more attention from the people around her and the troll is embarrassed, blushing a radical shade of jade before gathering her things and leaving in a rush. Rose follows for a short bit, Kanaya has taken the care to notice their class schedules are strikingly similar, but after it becomes obvious that she is desperate to escape, she stops and heads back. 

 

The next day, class is smoother. The pencil and shoes are still tapping, the girl's anxiety ever there, and Dr. Scratch still has his mouth running over several meaningless words in the lessons titled under literature II. 

This time, though, Kanaya is taking notes and overriding her brain with worries about her friends. Karkat and his absences, Gamzee (though not really a friend) with his low grades, Jade with her lack of interest towards anything that wasn't physics or science in general, and Vriska with her issues with anything that didn't involve hating someone - platonic or not. She had no real idea how to fix a majority of their issues - had given up once showing Vriska an unplatonic love had backfired and shot her in the chest - but it was consuming her mind, which didn't allow her to think of Rose or Scratch or class in general and - oh. Shit. She'd stop taking notes. What was he even saying? Evidently something about some book.

Kanaya looks over to Rose, whose violet eyes are staring into the depths of her writing, following the sweet curve of each letter. In return, the troll watches the sharp movements of purple irises and smiles at the sweet flecks of soft, almost blue, dots around her pupil. 

"I'm far too infatuated with this girl," you think.


	13. Trash

Rose soon found out that trolls had an issue when it came to making piles. More often than not, they would have several piles in their respective rooms and would often take from them and put the item in another pile - as if organizing them. Gamzee's had been composed of horns and empty, squished faygo bottles. Terezi had close to five, one being a colorful mixture of toys and chalk and another being plain garbage she didn't care to toss away. Equius and Nepeta had shared one - before they died - and it was made up of tea cups, various cracked and broken objects, paper, and some animal pelts. Karkat had a pile of almost nothing - it was small, pathetic compared to the others; he frequently used Gamzee's instead of his own. Kanaya, Rose had observed, mainly had small piles of clothing and fabric scattered around her room. There was one bigger than the rest, mainly consumed by pillows and plush, warm, heavy blankets. Rose referred to it as the cuddle pile. 

However, as was with almost all the trolls in their small rooms, petite piles of trash we placed in corners of their rooms and frequently forgotten until they spilled over or smelled grotesquely. Luckily, Kanaya kept her's small and it never really smelled - and if it did, it often carried the fragrance of perfume and lipstick and, very rarely, of sweat. Cloth, as well as empty bottles and capsules and more, were the only things in the little pile. 

It was an eyesore, though. Glancing around a full of colors and finding a speck of litter, though tucked in the corner, was a disappointment on her terms. 

Trolls liked to hoard, though. Rose assumed it had something to do with their insect-like ways, like honey with bees, in a way. 

On this day, with her head tucked beneath the warm chin and neck of the rainbow drinker, Rose felt compelled to bring it up regardless of pass conversations ending with agreements to disagree. 

"I know one cannot be culturally sensitive and still ask of someone to change something, but..." She sighed, "Have you ever thought of a trashcan, Kanaya?"


End file.
